


Little Golden Riding Hood

by AngelGal



Series: Ponyboy Centric [2]
Category: The Outsiders (1983), The Outsiders - All Media Types, The Outsiders - S. E. Hinton
Genre: Alpha - Freeform, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Angst, Animals, Assault, Attempted Kidnapping, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Backstory, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Character Death, Extremely Dubious Consent, Family Bonding, Family Secrets, Fever, Fluff and Humor, Greasers, Harassment, Heats, Hunters & Hunting, John Wayne, M/M, Mates, Multi, Non-Linear Narrative, Orphans, Pack Dynamics, Socs, Soulmates, Treasure Hunting, Two Shot, Underage Kissing, Werewolves, Werewolves Turn Into Actual Wolves, Werewolves in Heat, Wolf Pack, idk lmao this is just all the stuff I like about werewolves put into a oneshot with my favorite boys, inebriated character, mate, omega - Freeform, shifting, supposed to feel like a movie if that helps lol, two-part story, we love old westerns
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-29
Updated: 2020-02-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:02:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22617589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngelGal/pseuds/AngelGal
Summary: The Curtis boys may act like animals- but if you paid enough attention, maybe you would realize they're a lot more than just that, too.What if werewolves were real and made themselves an estranged home in Oklahoma? A Ponyboy-centric two-shot about the hard lives of boys left to take care of their own and those wanting to make it harder just over a summer weekend.
Relationships: Darrel Curtis & Ponyboy Curtis, Darrel Curtis & Ponyboy Curtis & Sodapop Curtis, Original Female Character(s)/Original Male Character(s), Ponyboy Curtis & Sodapop Curtis, Randy Adderson/Ponyboy Curtis
Series: Ponyboy Centric [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1573117
Comments: 16
Kudos: 41





	Little Golden Riding Hood

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Wolf Pack](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20754413) by [Dosteriia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dosteriia/pseuds/Dosteriia). 



> This is inspired by Wolf Pack by Dosteriia on AO3, It should be linked but I would definitely go and read it, their storytelling is amazing and I wish I had the world-building skills they used in their story! This is set in a different AU though and doesn't build off, but I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> I wrote this as I took a break from Young Colt since the plot was making me frustrated and I was trying hard to bring the momentum back since it felt like the storyline got flat for a moment but this writing prompt got the juices flowing again so I'll update that story soon and hopefully the fourth chapter will be good enough as an apology for the long wait! 
> 
> It was originally a one-shot too but the document got so long that it started to crash on my shitty ass computer so I split it up into two parts. I hope it still has the movie feel since that was what I was kinda going for, but idk I still like it. :)
> 
> Feedback through comments and kudos are appreciated!
> 
> (also, I know the concent is kinda out there, please don't flame me lmao, but like,,,,, I had to do it to 'em)

Owasso, Oklahoma, October 15, 1951

Michelle Curtis slumped in her chair as the doctor spoke on in an indifferent, medical, tone. Darryl held her hand as gently as he could- becoming her strength and his own. Even when their gynecologist finished going over Mrs. Curtis’ results, she continued to silently weep. She squeezed her husband's hand as she felt his thumb sooth over her own, tightening her grip. 

“I truly am sorry, Mr. and Mrs. Curtis, but this is your reality, I’m afraid.” He said in a west-coast accent, he didn’t sound native to their state, Michelle thought absentmindedly. ‘An outsider,’ she winced, ‘telling me the worst news one could tell a woman’. “And even if there were treatment, the cost is…” he trailed off, giving them a once over- not wanting to finish the sentence. 

Darrel grimaced, clenching the fist placed methodically on his lap. Michelle winced, looking away and squeezing her eyes shut. “I can catch a throw, doctor. I reckon we understand real good what yer gettin’ at,” he said sharply, standing up quickly. His wife looked up at him with wet eyes, letting him help her up. “Thank you, if you don’t mind,” Darrel finished, steering his wife with an arm around her waist towards the door of the other mans’ office. 

“Mr. Curtis, please.” He beckoned as he stood up from behind his desk, pulling papers from a drawer and holding them up. Darrel was set on ignoring him, but Michelle wanted to hear him out. She stepped forward and gingerly accepted the papers. She shuddered out a breath, letting another tear fall as she tucked the pamphlets to her chest and leaned into her partner. 

The greaser lightly peeled the papers from his wife's grip and looked them over, instantly holding Michelle just a little bit tighter to his side. His own eyes started to burn as if they were about to let tears fall, a lump heavy in his throat. 

Michelle pulled them from his hand as he attempted to throw them away in the bin by the door, not wanting to give up. She looked at the paper for parents interested in adoption, and with a defeated shrug of her shoulders, buried them into her purse. 

Unknown, Oklahoma, October 15, 1951

The woman ran as fast as she could with a still sore lower half, her clothes disheveled and dirty as she tried her best not to trip with the crying infant in her arms. A dark-gray wolf three times her size kept an easy pace, the scruff of a whimpering pup tight between his teeth and a young wolf not too much bigger than the puppy able to match the women’s speed as well. 

She cursed as she felt her shin hit a swirling root and tumbled to the ground, rolling onto her back to avoid crushing her baby. 

The wolf skidded to a stop and sprinted back to where she fell, his ears pressed back in worry as he nosed her shoulder. She groaned, catching her breath in quick raspy spurts. She couldn’t stop herself from sobbing as she held the baby closer to her chest, able to sit up with the help of her companion. 

The wolf stayed close to her, whimpering out his concern when he suddenly shot his head up in attention. The puppies huddled closer to their mother, the women holding them close, shielding the babies as her light auburn locks draped over them. 

The sounds of running men in heavy boots and the clinking of metal inched closer, the wolf's fur rising on its ends as it prepared to attack. 

She squealed- rolling to her side and using her boy to cover her pups- when the hunter broke out and the fight ensued between man and beast. A moment later the tussle became silent, a shot ringing out through the forest. The woman held her breath, forcing herself to look up and braced herself for the worst. The wolf was a man now, heaving as his naked body was covered in dirt and blood. 

He shot a look over his shoulder, yellow eyes squinted in pain. He grunted, turning to her and revealing the shot on his side. She tried to get up but the man just growled at her, trying to steel himself and real back into his human form as he tried to heal around the wound. 

The silver bullet stung as it pulsed through his side- hopefully, he could get it out with some help when they reached the asylum his kin had told him about toward the east. 

She held her breath, the tears coming faster now, making a point not to look at the man laying on the ground a few yards away. He looked so young, it made her shudder, thinking that could be her or her babies instead. Her breasts pulsed as they started leaking milk- she was surprised the stress hasn’t stunted her production, but she was glad that she could still feed. 

It was uncomfortable, almost like when her chest would swell during her heats, but it was necessary. She wished her newborn could turn into a wolf already so he could speed up his aging in pup form and carry him by his scruff. Since he hasn’t been growing as fast as his brother, though, she was forced to be in her human form and hold him against her chest since she didn’t want to risk hurting him. 

It worried her mate too- what if he was...

“Maybe- maybe they’ll let ‘em live? Ther’ jus’ babes-” She cried, skittering to the side and pulling them with her, trying to hide them only to realize that she needed to get them moving. She resecured the infant to feed him against her chest, looking up to her mate. 

The man turned back into his wolf form when he was satisfied with the irritated wound, and growled, not to silence her but to send a warning, then picked up the shaking puppy while the older one got to his feet. 

No one would be dying if he was there to protect them. 

Creek County, Tulsa, Oklahoma, July 22, 1952

“You ready, baby?” Darrel asked as he finished packing the back of his truck with all they would need for their date out in the country that afternoon. He walked back up towards their porch where Michelle was finishing her apple. Humming as she nodded her head and hopped over to him, she laughed around a full mouth as he picked her up by her waist from the top step and sat her down at the bottom. 

“Great.” He smiled, opening his mouth for her to give him a bite of her almost done fruit. 

They made the long trip to their hidden spot that they used to sneak away to when they were teenagers. When they got there, the sun was a half-hour away from setting, so Darrel decided that it was a good as time as any to start their campfire and tent, laying out a blanket on the open truck bed for Michelle to relax on as he got to work. 

She cheered him on as he was close to finishing, hoping out from the truck bed to set out their pre-made food for dinner. They sat a little ways from where they camped upon their blanket, leaning on one another as they watched the sunset. Darrel looked over at his wife, unable to think about anything that didn’t involve her at that moment. 

Her green eyes were lit with warm reflections as she stared at the beautifully colored sky, a tired smile resting peacefully on her lips. 

“I love you.” He said, letting his lips turn up in a wide smile. She glanced at him and smiled back, sighing as their faces grew closer together. “You’re my world.” He finished, letting their noses brush together.

She just looked at him adoringly, she didn’t have to say anything to let him know how she felt. 

He leaned down and kissed her, eventually laying her down on her back and kissing her neck. They stayed connected, finishing by the time the sky was dark blue; loving one another like no matter their worries were, together they could get through anything. 

After Darrel helped her clean up and make the short walk back to their camp to get ready for another round, the sounds of something rummaging by their truck and food supply caught their attention and stopped them in their tracks. 

“Wait here.” He said sternly, digging in his pocket and handing her his pocket knife. She tried to object, but he just pecked her lips and went forward to see what the noises were coming from. It was most likely an animal of some kind, but he didn’t want to risk it. 

He quietly rounded the truck since that was where the closest sounds where coming from, picking up a light stray tree branch just in case. As he got closer, he slowly leaned over the side of the truck to peek inside- where he left their food for the weekend. 

He paused when he saw the tiny little butt of a child half fallen into their large bin of food. 

Quickly, he looked over at his wife and waved for her to come over. She hesitated, but soon was at his side, covering her mouth with a silent gasp as she peeked over. The child seemed to have heard it because soon it doubled over onto its side and looked up at the couple with wide eyes. That was when they got a good look at him for the very first time, and later on, they would both agree that they both had felt their hearts immediately tighten.

He couldn’t have been any older than five, skinny but not too small- Darrel could tell he would grow up to be big. He had almost hazel deep brown eyes that were wide in fear, the oddest thing about them is how sharply thin his pupils appeared to be. His small lips were parted as he breathed quickly, seemingly close to panic, as his small chest rose and feel like the little beat of a hummingbird's wings. 

He wasn’t wearing any clothes besides dark blue sweatpants, this boy and his clothes covered in dirt. His dirty blonde hair long as it covered most of his face in wavy tufts. 

Michelle raised her hands to show she meant no harm, trying to get close without scaring the poor boy. He quickly backed up on his hands as he scooted himself away, trying to hop out over the side and escape towards the tent where the previous sound of rummaging had halted. 

Darrel quickly grabbed the back of the boys' pants, yanking him back to them and wincing when, as a result, he smacked his face onto the metal of the truck beds floor. The little boy yelped and shot out a whine that sounded almost animal-like. 

Just as he pulled the small boy up to his chest, trying to get his squirming to stop as he scratched him with sharp nails, he heard Michelle shout for him to look, feeling something small but heavy tackle his legs. Darrel almost doubled over then, but he was able to catch his balance, Michelle grabbing the struggling boy in his arms so that he wouldn’t drop him. 

Darrel let himself fall then, turning onto his back to look at what was trying to attack him. It was another boy, he had the face of a seven-year-old but the strength of a teenager- if Darrel wasn’t so built then he probably wouldn't be able to wrestle the boy to his back as he did. The bigger boy tried fighting and clawing his way out of the grip, but Darrel held him down as best he could. 

Eventually, he got tired and went limp, breathing heavily and trying to head his face to the side as tears escaped his eyes. Maybe it was how the boys' wet eyes looked just like his own- a bright blue- or how weak and defeated he looked, dirty and afraid, but Darrel found himself wrapping his arms around the boy and holding him close. 

The boy struggled at first, growling into the mans’ shirt- but eventually, he calmed down, and much to Darrel's surprise, began to openly sob. The greaser looked to his wife then, who was still holding the younger boy to her chest. He was crying too, his face buried in Michelle's neck. Her face looked scratched up and her face looked pained as she smiled and rubbed the little boys back, but otherwise unharmed. 

“Oh my god.” She mumbled, bouncing the crying boy in her arms now, starting to empathetically cry herself. 

After they all calmed down and everything grew silent again, they heard the distant cries of a baby startup. The couple looked at each other, surprised, then looked to the two boys who had scared looks on their faces as they looked to the tent where the second boy came from. 

The older looking boy tried to struggle again, this time using his fist to try and hit his way out of the man's grip, but Darrel was easily able to grab his wrists and held him tightly against his chest, walking them over to where the crying had come from. Michelle followed, mumbling out a curse as the situation was settling down onto them. 

They peeked inside, both of them frozen in their spots, gasping in shock. The boys ripping themselves from the adults' grips as they stumbled to the crying bundle covered in their fresh but worn blankets, dirty clothes were thrown aside that were probably used previously to cover the baby. 

Both boys held on the crying babe, looking testingly at Darrel and Michelle. Now that they were able to get a good look at them, they noticed some things that seemed… unhuman. 

Their skin had a thin layer of fur in specific places such as their knees and elbows, their toes had park dark nails that almost looked like wolf claws, and their hands had the same- though they noticed when they retracted them so that they could hold the baby without hurting it. Michelle tried her luck first, reaching out to the boy she had held a moment earlier.

He winced at first, baring his teeth. Michelle flinched but kept her hand extended, offering comfort. He took a second to size her up. He gave in, then, closing his eyes as his lips quivered and leaned into her touch. She looked to Darrel, then back to the boy- shuffling closer to pull him into her lap. The eldest looking boy growled lowly in his throat but leaned forward as well as if he wanted to stay as close as possible, pulling the bundle completely to his small lap and chest. 

Darrel got a better look at the baby then and realized that it was too big to be an infant, though it was still small. He climbed in closer to the stray boys, testing his limits and reaching out for the toddler crying in his brother's arms. 

He didn’t let him get too close, glaring at him and holding the tiny child to his chest, but then Michelle leaned forward, petting his hair lightly. He looked at her with worried eyes but seemed to trust her more. He let her pull the blanket away, and immediately her husbands' name escaped her lips. 

The toddler looked to be a boy, around one or two years old, with curly auburn hair and bright green eyes, just like Michelle's’. He didn’t look as animalistic as the two other boys, either, somehow more human.

“Darrel-” She said again, holding the other boy tighter in her arms as they both cried. Her husband rubbed her back, smiling when the eldest boy crawled forward and into their arms, letting Michelle hold the toddler when she reached for him.

The boys looked defeated and worn down, Michelle noticing how malnourished they looked and wanting to break down when she caught how tired they looked- not just physically, but mentally. She knew that feeling all to well and never wanted to see it in their eyes again. 

They knew at that moment that God had answered their prayers in the weirdest way possible, just knowing that they’d be taking them home that night. 

The next morning, Darrel went out to get the older boys some things while Michelle stayed back to get them fed and primed while also calling up an old friend who worked in the juvenile system. 

He passed by their downtown newsstand as he walked out of the children's clothing and toy store, a summary of a headline catching his eyes immediately and causing his stomach to drop. ‘Two giant Wolves Hunted By Local Sheldon Hunter Family, One Sheldon Family Member Killed In Tragic Accident’ it read, and with knowing eyes, Darryl looked away. Sighing deeply, he made his way back home to his newly complete family. 

A little way west of their small Tulsa town, towards the nicer and larger catholic cemetery, a vigil held place, faces riddled with pain and mourning as they lowered their loved one into the ground. A man stood with his two brothers and family friend, all of their shoulders squared as they glared. 

A young woman ignored her young son gripping her skirt as she cried, wishing her husband would show her at least one glance of sympathy but trying her best to keep it to herself. 

She shoved the little boy away, glaring at him as the casket finally lowered into the ground and the men all shoveled the pile of dirt back into the ground, making her way closer to throw in a flower from the many bouquets. 

“That’s the fifth one this year.” One of the men said as they finished up, fixing the headstone in place, smoothing his hand over the name that read ‘Garret L. Sheldon’. The father looked at him, a cold expression washing over him. He glanced around to his mourning family and scoffed. All of them were weak, he thought. 

Garret wasn’t- his boy died like a soldier as he rid this town of those monsters. A few of them may have gotten away, but per usual he would have to be the one to finish the job least this town become a breeding ground of satans creatures. 

Tulsa, Oklahoma, January 10, 1964

Darrys’ chocolate cake was left on the table, untouched and covered in illegible words written in icing and drooping un-lit candles. Sparse party streamers hung non-methodically as they slowly fell from where they were taped all around the kitchen, the house a few things it hadn’t been in a long time; cleared out, dark, and quiet. 

Ponyboy and Soda had long gone to bed, tiring themselves out from crying hours ago. 

Darrel Junior didn’t cry, and he honestly didn’t think he could sleep either- not now that he’s the man of the house and needs to be awake to protect the cubs of the home. Darry needed to be there for them, in every possible way. He knew that the second they got the news, and even before then, back when he was only a cub himself. 

He watched intently as his brothers slept, curled up in each other's arms, holding one another knowing that now they were all they had left. 

He stood straight from where he was previously leaning against the door frame and walked over to his baby brothers, leaning down and kissing the crown of Pony's head- who just sighed deeply in his sleep and shifted slightly. He went to do the same to Sodapop but paused when he noticed his eyes were open, looking numbly up to his older brother. 

The dirty blonde stretched a little, shuffling himself around Pony to be able to hold him tightly against his chest. He only looked away from Darry to look at Ponyboy, softly running his fingers through his hair. Darry chuckled wetly at his brother's affections, the tears finally falling. Chuckling turned into whimpering, and as soon as Soda reached out and held his older brother's hand, he let himself fully let go. He tried to be quiet so that Pony would rest, but the boy had tired himself out so they had nothing to worry about. 

Soda sighed wetly, letting his tears fall as he continued to pamper their youngest brother, tugging at Darry so that they could look at each other in the eyes again. Darry watched as Soda let his real eyes show, his teeth growing sharp and a low protective growl escaped his throat as he pulled him in close to fully cover the sleeping boy between them. 

Darry knew what he was trying to communicate, leaning down to connect their foreheads and emitted his own dominant growl to show that Soda didn’t need to worry, he’d be there for them. 

He knew it meant giving up college, giving up all that he had worked for- for all that his parents had worked for just for him- but it wasn’t even a question if he was willing to give it all up for the future of his kin. 

“Darry, he-” Soda choked, starting up the light strokes through Ponys’ damp hair since they made him shower before bed. “He can’t know, not now with mom and dad- mom and dad…” He tried but squeezed his eyes shut as his bottom lip trembled. 

Darry reached over and squeezed his shoulder, “Now don’t get all worked up again, little buddy,” he chided with no real heat to his words since he was still crying himself. He lifted his hand to cup Sodas’ cheek, thumbing away his stray tears. He agreed though, Pony couldn’t ever know, and hopefully, he wouldn’t ever have to. 

Sodapop and Darry had been old enough to remember who they really were- or rather, what they really were. They had all agreed in a too grown way that it would be better if he was raised without the knowledge of their adoption since it didn’t even matter anyway. In every way possible, the Curtis’ were their parents and that was that. Darry had given up all leadership to Darryl the second he let him hold their youngest cub not once had he regretted it. 

It still hurt, so bad, and every second since they got the news about the accident, Darry wishes he could go back in time and make sure nothing like this had ever happened. He tried to remember if he felt that way all those years ago too when his real parents had been hunted as trophies, but for as long as he could remember, his human mom and dad had been all he cared about- right behind his brothers. 

They never really thought to tell Pony any time in the future either since he never really showed signs of shifting. It was uncommon, but from the little they knew about their kin, it’s possible for special cubs like Pony to be born. 

And that’s what he wished for with Ponyboy, for him to be normal, to live normal, to have all the world could offer him. Both of them were going to make sure he could have that. 

He scooted them over a little and laid down, situating the pile of blankets over all of them to keep warm from the lingering winter. Soda immediately cuddled himself and Pony up against Darry, wrapping an arm over to hold onto the bigger man. They calmed down then.

“Pepsi… do you… do you remember our real names?” Darry drawled, close to sleep, not expecting an answer. The room was silent, the wind wrestling the trees outside and the soft breathing of Ponyboy filling up the quiet night.

“Na man… We already know our real names,” came the soft reply as the two brothers drifted off to join Pony in the painless world of unconsciousness. 

Tulsa, Oklahoma, July 16, 1964

Curly and Pony walked down the dirt path behind the east side houses, kicking rocks and messing with whoever they passed on their way. 

“I wonder what it’s like to be a cowboy…”, Pony thought aloud, looking at the dry weeds growing along the path reminding him of a scene where John Wayne was chewing on some wheat in a movie he’d seen when he was little, maybe around five, with his dad. 

He pulled on his collar, letting out a small grunt. He had been feeling sweaty lately regardless of the weather- not the kind of warm he gets after he sprints for track and field, but like instead coming from inside, like when he has a fever. Laughing to himself, he caught himself imagining John Wayne red-faced and a thermometer sticking out the side of his mouth. 

They walked nonchalantly with their thumbs in their pockets, having both come from the Dingo that afternoon and needing to head home around the same time. Their older brothers were both strict about being home before the sun sets, so more times than not they ended up rushing home together. 

“‘Prolly a big snooze,” Curly said with no real thought. Pony bit the inside of his cheek, shrugging as he buried his hands deeper into his pocket. He didn’t agree; being a cowboy was probably the coolest thing someone could be. It even sounded close to his name- maybe it was a sign, he thought, then blew it aside.

“Wanna come by the house, Curly?” Pony asked, getting them out from his pockets and swinging his hands as he walked, playing with a switch he found by sliding it against wire fences as he went. Curly looked at the sky, glaring at the hot sun as he licked the sweat forming under his nose, casting an eye to the other greaser. 

Curly shrugged off his leather jacket, tossing it over his shoulder and rolling them back, cracking his neck. “Can’t, bud- me and the big man got plans soon.” He stated. Pony scrunched his eyebrows at that as he wiped the sweat from his brow, knowing he was talking about Tim and was about to ask him to elaborate before he saw something rustle in a dried-out bush by a broken-down shed. 

He wandered off for a moment, Curly standing off to the side uninterested but not wanting to leave Pony alone yet. The smaller greaser sneaked up to the bush and prepared to tackle whatever animal was hiding in it, jumping when a prairie chicken hopped out, bocking at the boy laughing hopping around trying to catch it. 

The Shepherd boy salivated at the sight of the chicken but quickly caught himself, tightening his grip around his jacket and backing up to lean against the fence. “Come on, cub, unless yer trynna de-feather it and have her for lunch, just leave it be.” He teased pulling out a weed stick and lighting it up. 

Pony frowned at the nickname though it wasn’t new to him- his buddies and family would sometimes call him that when he would play around like he is now, but it usually didn’t come from Curly. 

The chicken started pecking at his legs in revenge and making a show of running around his, making Pony welp and scamper towards his friend for help. When the chicken seemed to be out for his life, the smaller boy running in the direction of his house. 

Curly laughed and ran after him, holding back the urge to claw at the chicken himself and bring home food. Neither boys managed to notice the car trailing distantly behind them, watching with keen eyes. 

The soc in the passenger of the convertible scrunched his nose, rolling his eyes as he saw the low lives play with the chicken like animals. “So those are the targets?”

Bob Sheldon looked at them too but his stare was more concentrated. He looked at the small light-haired boy, a weird feeling in his stomach growing. “Yeah… or at least that white trash Shepherd boy is… the other one, though… who is he?” 

The three boys in the back stopped their conversation noticing the shift of tone from tailing to predatory. Sometimes Bob feels like it isn’t the werewolves his family has spent generations killing that Tulsa should be worried about. 

“The tiny one?” A brown-haired boy asked, looking out as the two boys were almost out of sight. “I think Randy might know him, he looks like one of them hood boys with the weird names- them ones who’s folks were in that nasty accident.” 

Bob hummed, a wicked smile on his face. “Dads expecting me. Maybe we should give em a visit later...” he said as he shifted his gears and sped off.

“Three king’s.” Pony said as he placed three cards face-down on top of the growing stack of cards at the center of the table. He kept his face bare or any emotion as he made a show of organizing his hand of cards, daring anyone with his eyes to call his bluff. 

Curly had dropped him off after saving him from the evil chicken, staying to use the john then leaving for his house like his heels were on fire, almost an hour before they started playing their game. 

Steve glared at him as he shuffled through his hand to check if he had any kings to prove him wrong; having received damn near half the deck, he was bitter, being the most likely to lose at this point. 

Johnny looked to Dallas, elbowing him to get his attention. “Ya got any King’s, Dal?” He asked, trying to see if he could call bull before he took his turn and put down whatever Aces he had. 

“Hey, that’s cheatin’!” Pony cried, reaching himself over the table to smack at Johnny. Dallas shoved him away by ruffling up his hair. The boy leaned back and groaned in irritation. Steve huffed out and threw his cards down, muttering about how he wanted to play poker instead of bullshit to Soda. 

Darry walked in then, early from work, and throwing down his tools belt onto a spare chair. Ponyboy sat up straight and looked at the clock hanging over the kitchen entrance. It was only half-past six, he should have still been working. He seemed to be the only one surprised, though, everyone looking as though they were expecting him. 

“Whoo-Hoo!” Steve hollered, almost like an animal- which Pony was convinced he was with how terrible he was- and shot up, Soda following and bouncing over to Darry with Steve. “About damn time, Hercules! I was about to roll without y'all!” 

Ponyboy coughed a little, his throat feeling a little dry. He also realized then how red and clammy his face felt. Soda looked at him over to his younger brother, worry poorly hidden on his face though he chose to not say anything.

Dallas got up and shoved past Steve, fishing out smokes and motioning for the younger boys to follow but only Johnny noticed and trailed behind. He looked awkwardly between Pony who seemed to catch on and looked sharply at Darry who met his stare just as intensely, realizing they’d need some space. 

“Come on Stevie,” he said, smacking his arm with the back of his hand, “Why don’t ya show off some of em’ fancy flips,” Soda said, getting smart to the situation, wanting to wait outside anyways and get hyped up before they left. Steve didn’t think twice about it, simple-minded as he was, and soon all the boys besides the two brothers were outside rough-housing like dogs. 

Pony sat annoyed and feelings little unwell- willing to act like a brat- alone with Darry now, and rolled his eyes just as he crossed his arms. “You guys do this all the time,” he remarked, looking up at his brother as he pouted. “And I never get to come!” His older brother sat down next to him, tired and indifferent to Ponys’ ‘tantrum’, but showed his sympathy with a heavy hand on his shoulder. 

“Baby, we’ve had this talk-” Darry muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose, sliding up to rub his tired eyes. Pony smacked off the hand he had kept on his shoulder and turned away from him, slowly growing more upset. The older man thought to get rough but at first glance over how poor the little boy looked, he decided against it. 

“So what? I’m gonna be fourteen next week! When will I be old enough to go campin’ with you all?” he started to get emotional, unable to control his feelings lately. He overheard Soda and Darry talking about his moodiness and they tried chalking it up to the loss of their parents not even half a year ago, but they had sounded hopeful that that was all it was. 

A lot of the conversations he accidentally overhears have been confusing him lately, but he just hasn’t felt the need to dig too much into them- though he has to admit he has been curious. 

Darry leaned in and gave him a stern look, reaching out and grabbing Ponys’ hand, forcing him to pay attention. “Don’t be catchin’ an attitude with me, kid, least you be bent over my knee,” He said scoldingly. Pony looked at him scandalized but knew it wasn’t an empty threat. Darry sighed, his real age eluding him with how old he feels. “Look, Pone, you’re just not old enough and I don’t want to hear another peep about it. You know the rules while we're gone, right?” 

Two-Bit shot up from the couch then where he had passed out drunk and stumbled over to the kitchen like a deer on ice, burping loudly after looking at them like a zombie. “What day is it?” He looked at the calendar next to the back door then walked in more to look at the clock above him. “Oh! Well shit, what we hangin aroun’ for! Later kid!” Mathews said, smacking Ponys’ back as he sloppily ran out to join the restless boys outside. 

Pony looked at Darry with a deadpan stare, hooking his thumb over his shoulder to make a point. “So he’s grown?” Pony huffed. 

Darry stood then, looking at the clock and realizing he would have to head out if he was gonna reach the forest line before sunset. He turned to grab the bag he prepared in advance for the night, having the trip planned.

“Pony, the rules,” He stressed and Pony just rolled his eyes. He nodded, though, knowing that his brother just wanted to have his mind at ease. He got up and followed Darry to his room.

He sighed as he watched his older brother shoulder his bag, “Ya know, it’s kinda lonely, Dar. I ain’t got no one to be with while y’all are gone. And it’s real scary bein’ here on my lonesome! Please, Dar?” Pony tried, using guilt to get him to cave last minute. Darry smirked at him, roughing up his hair and bringing him in for a tight hug. Pony huffed and wrapped his thin arms around his brother, rubbing his face into Darrys’ barrel chest. 

“You askin’ for a babysitter, then?” Darry teased, the kids muffled groaning making him laugh. ‘Maybe he did need one’, the eldest Curtis thought since the kid looked kind of sick. 

He pulled away and walked to the back, joining the boys and yelling at them, making sure they got all they would need for the night in the back of the trunk. Pony stood in the back with them, sad to see them leave. It was a Thursday and they probably wouldn’t be back till Friday night, so he would be alone for the night and most of the next day. 

For trips like these, he got to stay by himself instead of having to stay with Mrs. Mathews (who always checked up on him anyways, no matter how many times he said she didn’t need to and that he was fine) or anyone else available to ‘babysit’- but the rules were simple enough but annoying.

Have all doors locked and do not leave the house past sunset or before sunrise for any reason, don’t answer the door to anyone besides friends and family, ignore any sounds of big animals like foxes and raccoons (though that one seems obvious, they always stressed it), and if anything weird happens, try and get outside and shoot the flare gun that’s stored under the sink. 

He didn’t have these rules before, though it’s not like he had any reason to be out after sunset previously- he guesses it was due to paranoia his brothers might have from losing their parents.

Before, mom and dad would take him out to the movies or to eat if they could afford it that month while the older boys went with Tim’s family or the Mathews; the tradition starting before Pony could even walk. 

The first time the day for them to leave came up after their parents passing, Soda had wanted to let him come- but then a Brumley boy had offered to watch him at Bucks for that weekend that they left and Darrel had been okay with it. Pony hadn’t talked to any of the gang for a whole week, eventually getting over it with the promise of them taking him out for ice cream and a movie. 

He had cried as soon as the movie finished and all the way to the ice cream parlor, wishing that he could laugh at a funny scene with his father or complain as his mother wipes ice cream off his chin one more time- he would have given the world just for that. 

“Get inside now, Pony, it’s gettin’ dark,” Darry said just as Soda stuck his head out from the back of the truck and waved Pony goodbye, pretending that he was a soldier going to war, with a salute and everything. Pony waved them off and got closer to the door but lingered. He waited for their truck to turn the corner out of the dirt path then walked inside. 

Soda watched out the back of the truck as he swiveled around, looking nervously to his best friend. “He ain’t lookin’ so solid… maybe I should’ve stayed…” He mumbled, turning all the way back to look at Darry for confirmation. The older man shrugged his shoulders.

“It’s alright, Pepsi-Cola, don’t be holding yer seat- I’ll have someone check up on the kid later.” He stated and pressed a little more on his gas pedal, shifting the gears on his truck. 

Curly burped and rubbed his bloated stomach, bare naked still and picking stray feathers from his teeth and tongue. His long dark gray tail was still out too, unconcealed and wagging contentedly as he stretched, preparing to shift again. 

A large dark gray, almost black, timber wolf with wavy fur padded out from around the tree Curly was struggling by and nipped his tail in warning. The young boy jumped slightly but glanced at the wolf at his side and burped, rubbing his knuckles to the wolf’s nuzzle and laughed when it tried to bite him. 

With the eerie sounds of cracking bones and ripping flesh, the wolf shriveled and contorted until it finally stood up tall on two feet, cold blue glowing eyes and dark black curly hair towered over him in the dark, rolling his eyes as the young boy smirked at him and crossed his arms. 

“Why ain’t ya shifted, pup?” Tim gruffed, picking a feather from his little brother’s hair. “Not safe.” he grumbled. The tone was cold and indifferent but Curly knew it was an act he had to keep up just because he was alpha of their pack. Curly peeked around him and behind, perking his ears and straining his eyes to see and hear farther than the normal person. He twitched his nose, not finding what he wanted to. 

“Where everyone else at?” Curly asked, confused when he didn’t sense the rest of their pack close by. They usually stayed at Tims’ heels during their hunts. Tim grunted, rolling his shoulders back and snapping his neck from side to side to crack it. 

He stalked off, sniffing the air and starting up a brisk jog towards the direction he came from, Curly following behind him curiously. “At the River Kings’ clearing, you strayed off,” Tim stated annoyed and almost mad as if there would be punishment for that later. Curly gulped and looked away as he played dumb. 

Tim paused, Curly running into his back though Tim didn’t move an inch. He bobbed his head to the side, acting as though he was paying attention to something Curly couldn’t see yet. The older Shepherd boy almost looked threatened, his shoulders going rigged as if he was getting ready to shift on the spot and subconsciously pulling Curly close but behind him. 

A familiar scent caught both of their noses and instantly, both brothers relaxed. 

“Curtis’ boys are aroun’ the corner, pup, get rollin’,” he said, shoving Curly as he sprinted out, jumping and ripping through flesh mid-air in a loud growl that echoed throughout the forest, falling smoothly onto four feet. 

Curly got quick smart to his brother’s command and did the same, falling on his own four paws as an identical-looking wolf to his brother though slightly smaller and not as wide, still in his early youth. Curly panted as he tried to catch up with Tim’s wild speed, only pausing when he heard the weird sound of a thick switch cracking. 

Figuring it was probably an animal he didn’t have the time to chase, he ignored it in favor of catching up to his brother, howelling into the cold evening air and letting out a weird animalistic cackle when his brother growled for him to stop. 

In the hidden tree line, several yards out from where the brothers had strayed at to talk, three figures breathe shallowly after having to hold their breath for a few minutes. An older man with graying hair quints his eyes in disgust, tightening the straps holding his hunting bow and arrows to his back.The other man, slightly younger though middle-aged with dark blond hair, straps back in his buck knife, a gruff ‘tch’ sound escaping him. 

The older man looked behind them at the young brunet boy kicking the dirt disinterestedly. He was armed too, with the new Ruger .44 Magnum Carbine rifle, though he kept it at his side, leaning against him as if it was more of a crutch than a weapon he would actually use. 

“Randy, you better get that big head out o’ yer ass,” He whispered out angrily, smacking the back of the kid’s head. Randy winced, catching himself from yelping as to not catch the attention of any supernatural creatures close enough to hear them. 

Randy Adderson was surprised the werewolves didn’t catch them when his heart rate shot up as the three hunters caught sight of them. 

It was his first trip hunting with his father and uncle and he hated it. He felt like he was being groomed since childhood to do something that never really sat well with him. Hunting deer and small mammals were one thing, but what they were hunting stood on two feet for most of the time and walked the same halls as him at school- it just didn’t feel right. 

He glared at his uncle as he spits to his side, checking his watch than pulling out his campus. “Sheldon and his boy aren’t showing up till tomorrow. Camp out south and reconvening at dusk?” He propositioned, shifting his weight as he shrugged his camping back tighter around him. 

Randy's father nodded then turned towards the direction they decided to camp at, not far away from where they knew their targets were gonna stay. He looked to his son then, giving him a stern look. 

“You ought to take a note or two from that Sheldon boy, now that’s a real hunter- that whole family actually, even that poor boy from that family that died way back- now he was a real prodigy...” He said as if he wished Bob or his late brother could have been his son instead. Randy rolled his eyes and found himself wishing the same. 

The warm water from the bath did nothing for the discomfort in his joints from running but did help ease the soreness he felt in his growing muscles and the sick feeling he was starting to get in his chest. The bathtub was old and had a weird residue on the floor of it, the plaster oxidized to a streaky yellow.

It was clean, though; since Pony and Sodas’ caseworker made it obvious that she would be checking up on them at random, Darry made it a point to make sure the house was spotless- even the bathrooms shared between a wild pack of teenage boys. 

He let the water cascade from his arm in rushed droplets as he moved it in and out of the steaming water, lightheaded from the fog floating in the bathroom, thinking of absolutely nothing. He was starting to feel better, even.

Finally, after the water became lukewarm and consciousness came back to Ponyboy, he climbed out of the tub and wrapped the towel he had set on top of the sink around himself like a blanket. 

Yawing, he reached to wipe the foggy mirror, pulling up the towel to dry his hair with it as he checked himself over. His hair was getting lighter by the day, turning into a reddish dirty blonde from his original brown; he figured it was from being outside so much, the sun bleaching it.

He liked being outside though, much like his brothers and the rest of the gang. They like rolling in the ground and playing ball bare-footed as they ran throughout dead grass, never getting hurt as they wrestle in the dirt and rough it out in the gravel. The sun on their skin felt good, much like the warm bath that he just took, but more natural- like it was something his body was programmed to need and even crave. 

Nighttime felt nice too, sometimes Pony would sneak out and sit on the old tire stack a little ways behind their backyard during the summer after everyone would be asleep. Just looking up at the stars, trying to remember their placement and formations, reaching his hands out along his view of stray midnight clouds as if he could actually touch them. And the moon; she was almost as beautiful as dawn and dusk, just as vibrant and entrancing as the sun but more calm and suggestive. 

It was hard to explain and he knew no one would understand; but it was how he felt and he could at least if only personally, admit that. 

Pony hummed as he made wide strides to his room, cold even though it was a summer night. He jumped when he heard the distant boom of fireworks, almost sounding like a gunshot. His shoulders relax when he realized it was probably illegal leftovers from the Fourth of July. 

It was a little weird to hear it in their neighborhood since most greasers and hoods can’t afford them, but via contraband and theft, there were ways of obtaining that kind of stuff. 

He stood still as the distant sounds burst through the sky, the sharp zip of it reaching its highest point before a solid boom ended its travel, and then the final sizzle as it dispersed. He almost wanted to go outside by the tires and see it for himself- but he knew he shouldn’t. If his brothers found out, he wouldn’t be able to sit right for a week with the fire they’d light on his backside. 

Suddenly he felt a wave of anger coursed through him when he thought about his brothers punishing him for something so dumb. It’s not like they’d know- and most likely nothing would happen, what about them not being here made it different from any other night he’d step out to look at the sky? 

It wasn’t fair that they all got to go somewhere fun and camp while Pony had to stay inside all alone like an unsupervised baby. 

“Ya know what…” he mumbled as he pulled on some briefs from the dresser, locating some faded jeans that hugged his growing waist and a loose Rogers sweatshirt, then headed out the back door. The hairs on the back of his neck stood straight through, and his gut unwarrantedly felt tight. 

He shook it off, though, stepping out into the cold night with two things on his mind; fireworks and cowboys. 

A thin dark brown “Italian” wolf pranced as it dragged a dead beaver to a growing pile of small critters snuffed for the sake of dinner, jumping up with a sharp ‘yip’ when a red wolf practically three times its size nips at the dark tail. 

The larger wolf let out sharp barks, and then a sneeze to let the other wolf know he was playing and wagged his butt and tail as his lower body wriggled to the ground as though he was going to spring himself up. 

Skittering away, the smaller wolf whined and let out his own park, but wagged his tail as the playful gesture. It didn’t stop a lean dusty wolf with offwhite fur from jumping in, growling at the slightly bigger wolf and snorting out a huff, dragging his own kill across the wood floor as he did no- a young doe. They had all come from the same perimeter, focusing on solo hunts with small prey but close enough to tackle a bigger target with two or three of them if needed. The blonde would make it clear it didn’t need the help. 

The red wolf pulled his ears back apathetically, the young buck reminding his of a cub waiting back home. The blonde and brown wolf huffed, looking between the red wolf's stare and the young prey. 

Making the three wolves jump, a loud howl rang out, signaling from their leader that it was time to wrap it up and meet back at the food pile if they hadn’t already. It was a short hunt where they would all get to eat together then rest out there, recuperating from losing all the energy it was going to take to be in their other forms after having to stand on two legs for so long; and the night was nearing a close. 

Johnny, Dallas, and Two-Bit all stayed around the decent pile of their kill, their attention peaked when three other wolves broke through a thick line of bush and nature, slowing down from their run with numerous things to add gripped tightly between their sharp teeth. 

A grey wolf with puppy eyes and a black wolf with a sharp stare and a bloody mess dripping from their muzzle both worked at dragging along a messed up looking American buck- it obviously having put up a fight if the rough appearances of Soda and Steve were anything to go off of. It was the giant grey wolf that towered over all the others that had them all perked up.

A wild boar was dragged then flung across logs and dirt in front of the animals, a smug look in the gigantic wolves keen eyes. 

Other familiar wolves with their own kill broke through the tree lines, Darrys’ pack all greeting them with their normal antics and playful roughhousing. Tim prowled over, more out of habit than wanting to intimidate, over to the other leader. 

A few others, such as a parlous appearing wolf that lead over the river king pack and a tall but lanky white wolf that represented alpha for the Brumly pack. They all sat around each other, eating off of the bigger kills while their packs all ate from the rest of the pile. 

Sounds of animalistic growling and yipping as they devoured their reward from their hunts filled the forest air, some even turning back to their human form as they had their fill and getting their kicks. 

The females stayed amongst themselves mostly, taking care of pups they couldn’t leave behind. Some even had to stay home and look after the female pups that weren’t able to shift yet. The girls usually head over sooner anyways, not big on the activities held later in the night, excluded by the big-headed males even if they did want to stay. 

By the time everyone finished eating, most of the shifters were in human form as they jested around, the young socializing and the old watching over as they relaxed. The leaders all turned back to their weaker forms when the mothers and cubs had all left safely with their partners, some of the larger males volunteering as well to ensure they got back without any trouble.

Two-Bit walked up cockily- smiling as he curtsied to Darry, being smart about his pardon to leave though he knew he didn’t really need to ask. It was more of a respect thing than anything else. He headed out after a nod from his alpha. Walking over to his mother and picked up his little sister, holding her on his hip and they walked off. 

Darry had asked him earlier, knowing he’d leave first, if he could check on Pony- just for his peace of mind. 

Looking over the crowd, he could see Steve and Soda rolling around in the dirt, not having turned back yet, and Johnny and Dallas lazing around with Johnny leaning against a Brumly boy and the towhead smoking his lungs away as they all hung out around the truck. 

A tingling feeling had washed over him, probably since it was growing pretty close to the full moon, which was always a complicated night, and was just a little anxious. It made Darry want to keep a close eye son his boys, feeling as though there was something he should be worried about.

**Author's Note:**

> Maybe I'll do more with this au? or like a whole series that's set in an A/B/O world? Let me know what you think, thank you for reading!


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